Tears and Rain
by ipreferwestside
Summary: She needs to keep this wonderful man safe, needs him to still be alive when she puts the rest of her demons to rest. An insert for 8x02. COMPLETE.


_A/N 1: This was written very late last night and typed up on my phone, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone._

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 _How I wish I could choose between Heaven and Hell.  
How I wish I would save my soul.  
I'm so cold from fear._

-Tears and Rain, James Blunt

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 **TEARS AND RAIN**

She takes the long way home, to give herself time to think. Think about what Rita said, about how this could get the people she loves killed. About how if she wants to pursue this, she can't drag anyone else down with her.

By the time she gets home, she knows what she needs to do.

She already brought Rick down with her once, right before she - they - took Bracken down. He was going to run with her, leave his mother and daughter behind, and was willing to die for her. She can't let that happen.

She _won't_ let that happen again.

He's in the bedroom when she finally walks through the door, pulling a flannel over his grey T-shirt, and gives her a wide smile. "Hey."

She smiles back, but she's sure hers doesn't reach her eyes. "Hey," she returns, gladly stepping into his embrace, burying her face in his chest. She breathes in his soap and detergent, committing it to memory. He's showered; part of her wishes he'd waited for them to shower together, but that would make what she has to do that much harder. So she pulls back after a few minutes and looks up at him, at his inquisitive stare. "I love you," she says quietly, reaching up to cup his jaw with one hand, the other fisted in his shirt.

'I love you, too," he echoes before capturing her lips in a slow kiss.

She instinctively deepens it, tongue moving against his, but she pulls away before it can go farther. "I'm going to clean up," she whispers, her fingers curled around his ears.

He smiles. "I'll draw you a bath."

She insists that she can do it alone, but it's half-hearted, and he helps her undress and step into the shallow water. He stays with her while she's in the tub, washes her back and hair, and when he's done he kisses her gently.

"You okay?" he asks softly, one hand covering hers on the side of the tub and the other cupping the back of her neck. She has a look in her eyes that he's seen before, after previous brushes with death. Haunted, and a little panicked, much too close to a deer in headlights, and he wants to wipe that look from her face, shelter her from everything bad in the world. But she's also quiet and withdrawn, and he knows she needs a little time to unwind. He stands after stealing another kiss. "I'll let you finish," he says, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

He thinks he's doing her a favor.

But he's not.

She moves slowly, the adrenaline from the past 36 hours long gone and replaced by pure exhaustion. She should stay. Sleep here tonight, in her husband's arms, and deal with it in the morning.

But she can't. She won't.

Delaying the inevitable will only make it hurt more.

So she pulls her bag from the back of the closet, the one she uses for weekend trips to the Hamptons. It won't fit a lot; she'll need to come back for more clothes and shoes, but this is only temporary anyway.

He'd closed the bedroom door behind him, and for that she's grateful. She wouldn't be able to do this if he could see her.

Luckily he's looking down when she comes out and sets her bag at her feet. She can't help but smile; he's making smorelettes, the food she can't stand but can't get him to stop making. But she knows he's doing it for two reasons: one, because they're his favorite, and two, to make her smile.

She stands there for a full minute before he notices her, but she's so caught up in staring at him that it feels much, much longer. And then he looks up and sees her, gives her a smile that almost has her taking her bag back into the bedroom.

But she can't. She needs to keep this wonderful man safe, needs him to still be alive when she puts the rest of her demons to rest. She needs him to be her happily ever after. And this is the only way. She knows they're better together, but they're not better if he's dead.

She has to do this. It's the only way.

So she stands her ground, steeling herself for the pain.

"Hey! How about breakfast for dinner?"

Her heart breaks.

 **-FIN-**

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 _A/N 2: Thank you for reading!_


End file.
